CHAPTER 48
Matt stood on the small flat area of ground in front of the cave, the fall down to the sea just over a metre away from him, the cave about three metres behind. The jar was tucked under his left arm, the paper and the cloth pouch in his right hand. Aimee had retrieved the torch. Matt panted as he caught his breath. He had run out of the cave in a furious mood when he saw what the jar contained, and probably would have gone off the edge if it wasn’t for Aimee grabbing him before he reached it. He had momentarily forgotten how high up they were. As it came back to him, his frustration subsided as it mixed with fear. Fear of losing his reputation, blended with a handful of fear of falling to his certain death, or even worse, a serious injury. At least you don’t have to live with shame when you’re dead.
‘What’s in the jar, Matt?’ Aimee pleaded in his left ear. He turned to see her standing a breath away, looking between the jar and his face with imploring eyes.
Matt turned to face the cave, rather than the cliff edge, and sat down. Aimee sat beside him, facing the path that had brought them up here. He unfolded the piece of paper and read.
‘This jar was found on the 16th day of August in the year 1901 by myself and a travelling companion. The contents of the jar, a journal of a sea-farer, has been removed and will be returned to my place of study for proper archival and conservation. It is fortuitous this artefact has survived thus far. The papers are remarkably well intact considering the exposure to elements they could have received over the years. It is paramount that they are no longer exposed to such conditions and a full study of their content should be undertaken.’
‘You’re kidding me? After all that running around. Has he at least left his name?’ Aimee asked.
‘Yes,’ Matt said, with a slight smile as he read the home location of the author. ‘He signed it; Holger Kirstein, Switzerland.’
As he finished reading, he folded the piece of paper and carefully placed it in his pocket. Aimee said nothing, but she didn’t need to. Matt could see that she too was disappointed. They had come a long way to only have to start again in another country. And what were the chances of them finding the contents of the jar in Switzerland? If they had even made it there. Surely they would have been made public by now — at least if they had any worth whatsoever.
Hemi parked the car next to Matthew’s at the base of the rugged track to Murdering Beach and climbed out to join Warren. As they walked across the bay towards the cliffs on the other side, he scanned the hillsides and cliff-tops that surrounded them. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just grass, trees, a couple of straggling sheep and sky. They rounded the cabin and found a freshly walked-on path that led up to the cliff-side.
‘I think they’re up here,’ Warren said.
‘Looks that way. After you.’ Hemi waved his hand to show that Warren should lead the way. Thankfully, he did.
Well, Hemi, this is it. If there was ever a chance for Warren to do something stupid enough to give you reason to take him down, this is that chance.
Hemi let Warren get in front of him a few paces, and then followed. His eyes scanned every which way they could. He prayed, for the first time in years. What if his backup didn’t make it in time, if there were no witnesses? If something happened to Matthew Cameron or Aimee Kingsbridge, Hemi would never forgive himself. The rest of his life and the memory of his father hinged on the next few minutes. For the first time he could recall, Hemi felt the stress of the moment.
Matt rose to a standing position in a motion resembling a Jack-in-the-box after a good, solid, winding. Aimee followed suit but looked at him in confusion.
‘I saw something moving,’ Matt said.
‘Oh?’
Aimee turned and followed Matt’s gaze down the path.
They were both surprised to see two figures emerging into view as they climbed the path, one following the other. As they got closer, Matt recognised the leader.
‘Warren!’ he said, turning to Aimee. ‘This is great, Warren can help us for sure.’
Aimee said nothing. She just looked confused.
‘Who’s he with?’ Matt asked.
‘Can’t see yet.’
They stood silently as they waited for them to get closer. As they did, the person at the back came into view as well.
‘It’s Drew,’ Aimee said. ‘Must be a good guy after all if he’s with your friend.’
‘Sure,’ Matt said, now also a little confused. How did Warren know where they were today? Matt hadn’t called him, so Drew must have told him. But then, what was Drew doing here anyway? Then it hit him. Warren must be there under duress. The government had stepped in and was going to take over their research. Matt wasn’t going to allow that. He was ready for a fight.
CHAPTER 49
‘I think you best pass me that jar, Matthew.’
Matt stared back at Warren in disbelief. Warren wasn’t here as Drew’s hostage, or under duress. He was here on his own accord. In fact, he appeared to be the one calling the shots.
‘I don’t understand, what are you doing here? What are you doing with this thug?’
Matthew watched Drew grimace.
‘Hemi’s been working for me,’ Warren answered.
Matt and Aimee looked at each other. They had both noticed that Warren knew Drew as Hemi.
‘You’re Hemi’s boss?’ Aimee asked.
‘The evil boss?’ Matt asked, looking at Drew.
Warren shot an angry glare at Hemi.
‘He’s been keeping an eye on you, trying to keep you on the right path,’ Warren said. ‘But you’ve strayed Matthew, and so now I need you to hand me that jar.’
‘What right path? I came to New Zealand for you. I came here to help you prove that New Zealand’s history needed rewriting!’ The words left Matt’s mouth like a raging tide.
‘That’s right, I brought you here to do my work, but you’ve chosen to work against me. You were supposed to show that the Celts found New Zealand first, not the Spanish. That’s why you now have to give me that jar.’
‘There’s nothing in this jar that interests you.’
‘Everything in that jar interests me if it furthers theories other than the Celts being here first.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I have a lot to gain if I can prove that the Celts were here before the Maori. My investments will see some great tourism revenue.’
The penny dropped, so did Matt’s jaw. He looked at the faces around him, registering mixed emotions on all of them. Even Drew appeared to be overcome with confusion as he shuffled his feet and looked around nervously. Matt decided he had to take control.
‘Give me the jar, Matt!’ Warren demanded in a voice that had lost any friendliness.
‘No!’ Matt stood firm. ‘You’ll never have this jar, nor will you ever touch its contents.’ He continued confidently, feeling the paper pressing against his leg inside his pocket.
‘Then you leave me with no choice.’
In one sweeping movement, Warren grabbed Aimee and pulled her sharply to his side. By the time Matt realised what was happening, it was too late. Warren had pulled a gun and was holding it to Aimee’s chest as he held her tightly against himself. He edged her closer to the cliff. Matt briefly had visions of her being thrown to her death. Or Warren shooting her.
‘Don’t do this, Warren.’ Drew’s voice surprised Matt. ‘This is not the way. You’re only making trouble for yourself.’ Matt could see and hear the effects of adrenaline in Drew. Warren seemed to notice it too and his gun shifted focus on him.